In March of 2010, I completed my seventh continental marathon distance. Follow me now as I keep running and try to finish a marathon in all 50 U.S. States before I turn 50.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Boston Marathon 2011!
Check out two new blog posts about the 2011 Boston Marathon on my web page: www.7marathons7continents.com!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Julie Lost 130 Pounds
I invited Julie to have dinner with me on Monday night. We were joined by my friend, Steph, whom I wrote about briefly in my chapter on South Africa (I would be happy to interview her, too, if readers are interested---just let me know). We talked to Julie about her journey to drop 130 pounds. Here is her candid interview, almost in its entirety. I only cut out the parts where we went off track. Julie is honest about the things she grapples with and still in awe of the changes in her life. Enjoy.
Cami: So when did you reach your goal exactly? Julie: I had my surgery in July of 2008. So by the next July I believe I was very close to goal. Cami: And you lost a total of about 130 pounds. Julie: Right. Cami: And so, Julie, you mentioned the surgery. What would you want people to know about the surgery you had? What did it take for you to come to the decision to do that? Julie: I used to think that I would never resort to surgery---that I should be strong enough, have enough will power to diet it all away, but after 49 years of struggling with my weight… and it literally was 49 years… I’d been heavy all of my life. I finally decided that surgery was a valid option. And then I had to worry about if I would ever be normal after I had the surgery. So would I only be able to eat little tiny portions, and would people look at me and wonder why I was eating that way? It was a struggle to figure it out, but I finally decided it was worth it---trying to find a balance between weight loss and health. Cami: What kind of surgery did you have? Julie: I had a proximal gastric bypass. So they made my stomach smaller and bypassed part of my intestines, so that the food enters lower than it normally does. “Proximal” means that they bypassed a fairly short section, whereas they can also do “medial” which bypasses more or “distal” which bypasses a whole lot more. And the more you bypass, the less you absorb of the food you eat. I do have some malabsorption that can be a factor in my diet from now on. I got the shortest distance bypassed. Cami: And how do you make up for that malabsorption? Julie: My doctor has me take protein supplements three times a day. That’s what he believes I need. And I take heavy duty vitamins and minerals, which I stick to fairly religiously. Cami: And you told me once what the statistics were of people who have success with the surgery verses those who don’t make adequate life-style changes. Do you remember what they are? Julie: I worked with a nutritionist, which my doctor didn’t insist on, but she said that fewer than 20 percent of people reach their goal weight even after the surgery. So it was exceptional for me to go down as low as I did. Cami: So, you know, I’ve watched you through this process, and I know that you didn’t just have a surgery. I know you worked extremely hard. What did you change in terms of your lifestyle? Julie: When I decided to have the surgery, I knew I was going to have to change my life dramatically. A box of crackers could not make dinner anymore. It wouldn’t do it. Slimfast and candy wouldn’t do it anymore. So I knew I would have to change a lot. At first, I had to devote myself to my instructions---making myself drink the protein even when I didn’t feel like it. Then when I worked with the nutritionist to find foods I liked that could make smaller but nutritious meals, I began eating regularly. Now I have given up most of the calorie rich foods I used to love, but I don’t miss them terribly. Cami: What do you think your caloric intake was when you first started losing weight? Julie: When I first started, my caloric intake was probably 900 to 1200 calories a day. I was doing three protein drinks a day plus small meals. And I’ve always exercised religiously. Cami: “Always” meaning your whole life, or “always” meaning once you made the commitment to lose the weight? Julie: Actually, my whole life I’ve walked and been fairly active, but once I started this, I was really committed to becoming fit. I started doing a walk video that I could do in my home right in front of my TV, and so I was expending those calories, which meant I had to keep up with the nutritional intake for that expenditure, too. Cami: When did you start running? Julie: I started running… well I’ve had multiple attempts at running in my life. I always wanted to run. I would run and then I would get hip pain or sinus pain or back pain and have to stop, and I’d be back to walking. So it was probably… Bellingham Fit began their running program in April or May of 2009, and that’s when I started running in earnest. Cami: And you were training for… what was your goal? Julie: The Bellingham Bay Marathon of 2009. Cami: And that race was in October of that year. Julie: Yes. So I knew I had wanted to do that. In the year 2000 my family all got together at a cabin at my sister-in-law’s place and we all talked about our goals for the next 10 years, from 2000 to 2010. And I told everyone I wanted to run the marathon. I was between 190 to 230---I don’t know what I was at the time. I know they all thought I was totally crazy. Cami: Did they laugh at you? Julie: No. They didn’t laugh. My family is very supportive, but I’m sure they were kind of going, “Sure. Right.” So it was very cool to have done that in my time frame. By 2010 I had done my first marathon. Steph: That’s so great. Cami: Congratulations. I know your family was very proud of you. I got to see that. Julie: My family is always supportive, but when I ran my 20-mile training run, my mother told my younger brother I was running 20 miles that day, and he said, “Oh mom, you must be mistaken. You didn’t hear her right. She’s running two miles.” And so he was blown away when he saw me running the marathon, and he was actually in tears watching me – which is pretty amazing, ‘cuz he’s a lovely guy but you wouldn’t think of your brother crying because you’re running. Cami: Nowadays how often are you working out? Julie: I work out at least five or six days a week, mostly six. At least 45 minutes of cardio each time, and weight lifting two days a week. Cami: You told me the other day while we were running that you had an epiphany. What was your epiphany? Julie: My epiphany was that now I am at the weight I should be at. I don’t really know how much I weigh because I have all this extra skin. So the scale shows 130, which I’m OK with. One-twenty-five has always been my ultimate goal weight, and I actually think if you took off all this skin I’d be below that. But it finally clicked that I wasn’t trying to lose weight anymore! I don’t have to have a calorie deficit. For so long, I’ve been trying to exercise off whatever I ate, and I realized I don’t have to do that now. I just have to work out for my health and I’ll maintain. Cami: What does that epiphany mean for you now as you go forward? Julie: It helps me ease up on myself. I tend to be quite hard on myself in the way I treat myself. And it’s like, you know, it’s OK to take days off and it’s OK to eat something extra. I don’t have to pay for it with extra exercise like I did before when I was still losing. I don’t have to be perfect. Cami: You said that you were always heavy, always overweight, but your family isn’t---at least not your siblings and your parents. What do you think contributed to your weight gain in the first place? Julie: Well, food is an issue in my family. Everyone works on it. My mom is very controlled, and my sisters think a lot about it. So it is an issue. I had a health thing when I was a baby where I was told I couldn’t keep food down. I was quite underweight for a seven-month-old until I had surgery that fixed the problem. They finally figured it out. I personally think that period of starvation, or less intake, affected me. From then on I ate. And it was a lot of sneak eating because somehow I always knew I wasn’t supposed to be eating as much as I was wanting to because the family valued being thin. But I still always wanted to eat. So I would sneak eat a lot when I was little, which caused my weight gain, but I think the early surgery had something to do with it. I was basically malnourished for the first few months of my life. Cami: Do you think that perfectionism you mentioned contributed to your weight at all? Julie: Totally! All or nothing thinking is a major, major roadblock, like in thinking, “Okay, I blew the diet totally, so I can go ahead and eat what I want.” Or if I’m not being good than it doesn’t count, but now I’ve been able to moderate that so I don’t have to do all or nothing. I’m still struggling with, “Okay I ate a little extra or I’m going to go out to dinner, so maybe I should do a little extra workout.” But I’m working on it. Cami: Talk about your struggle with changing your body image even though you’ve lost 130 pounds. Julie: It’s hard because when I get a glimpse of myself, I know that it’s me, but I still see myself as bigger. I’m not as big as I used to be in my brain, but when I look down I see extra skin, and I think it’s a roll of fat. Intellectually I know I can slide into places I didn’t used to be able to be, and I can move more easily, but if I don’t think about it, I still get surprised when I see myself. My last driver’s license picture, I’m thinking, “That doesn’t even look like me.” I reminded myself of my teenage nephew---angular. I’m still trying to figure out who I am. Cami: I remember when we were flying together to go to the marathon in Las Vegas. You were saying, “Look at me! I fit in this seat.” Julie: There are things that you take for granted as a thin person that you can’t do as a heavy person. And I always did my best to go and do, but you’re limited. You can’t touch your toes because your belly hits your thighs. You run into yourself. Or you travel and you fill up the seat. Now I don’t have to think, “Will the chair hold me?” I still marvel every time I can do something. Steph: Have you noticed a difference in the way other people look at or perceive you? Julie: Yeah. That was one of the really difficult things, because intellectually I know that people should value me the way I am, and I’m the same person fat or thin. But, especially with men I think, “If you don’t like me fat, why would you like me thin?” But people do treat me differently. There is in some ways more respect especially with people who knew me heavy. It’s interesting because being heavy gives you power in some ways; it gives you anonymity but also power of being present because people can’t run you over. When you’re littler, though, it’s harder because you can do more, but people kind of respect you more. Steph: That’s kind of sad. Julie: It really is. There are heavy people who are wonderful people. Steph: Like you, for years, right? Julie: That’s exactly right. I’m still me. I’ve done more things now, and I feel more powerful, but there is a power in being heavy, too. I was afraid of being smaller. Cami: Like would you be allowed to take up space in the world? Is that what it was about? Julie: It was actually more about security for me. You know, no one could grab me and carry me off when I weighed 260 pounds. At my weight now, someone could pick me up if they wanted to. I had to say, “OK, I can handle things. I’m a grown up and it’s okay to have that vulnerability.” Steph: Do you feel a difference in respect from people who knew you and from those who didn’t know you? Julie: There is a huge segment of the population that thinks heavy people are just slobs who don’t deserve respect. I was always a strong person who wouldn’t let people run over me, but yes the respect thing is weird. Cami: I know you’ve told me that you’re sometimes hesitant to tell people you had the surgery, as if you get fewer points for having lost this weight helped by a surgery instead of doing it all the conventional way. What would you say to people who are trying to make a decision about how they’re going to go about changing their life in terms of weight loss? Julie: Some people think the surgery is a bit of a cop out, and I used to think that, too. But you still have to totally change. And thank God the surgery did something for me the first six months to a year; I really didn’t care about food for the first time in forty-nine years. I didn’t wake up thinking about the food I wanted to eat that day or about the food I couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t eat. So it helped for me, but I still needed to make the good choices about eating the right things, taking my protein, exercising, drinking my fluids. It was hard work either way. Cami: What would you say to others who have struggled with their weight their whole lives and haven’t ever been able to achieve their goals? What kind of encouragement would you offer them? Julie: Number one is you have to do it for the right reasons. You have to do it to be healthy and to be able to move and to do. I was tired of my body holding me back. In deciding how you’re going to lose the weight you have to weigh out the benefits of a method with the consequences. I learned that… there’s a saying that “nothing tastes as good as being thin feels.” Most heavy people have heard that. And I’d heard it but never believed it. When you have a hundred pounds to lose by denying yourself, it takes forever. You have to get to the point where you believe that it is true. I feel so wonderful being able to move and to do. It was not worth eating a whole box of crackers. I can eat normally. Cami: Thanks Julie. Steph: Thanks for letting me a part of this. Julie: Thank you.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
She Lost More than 100 Pounds!
Many readers of my book have written me to ask about my running pal, Julie. Her story of losing half her bodyweight has touched a lot of people, and some of you have told me your own stories of dropping a significant amount of weight. I’m so proud of Julie for her commitment to herself and of those of you who have been on similar journeys! Julie has promised to give me an interview next week, which I’ll transcribe and post here for you, but until then, let me remind you how she and I met and how I watched out my window as she reached her goal.
Julie already lived in our neighborhood of townhomes when Bill and I bought our unit. She was a friendly woman who walked her little Cairn terrier past our window twice a day. Bill and I liked her right away because she was high energy and interested in others. She greeted every neighbor with the same bright smile and series of sincere questions about our well-being. A labor and delivery nurse by profession, Julie had the aura of one who cared.
Julie was also a large woman. In fact, it seemed to us, as we watched from our window (just so you know, the only window in the lower half of all our units looks directly onto the street at street level---we weren’t spying) that she was heavy against all odds. Julie walked at least an hour every day in addition to the hours she spent on her feet at the hospital.
As I mentioned in the book, I come from a family of people who struggle with obesity, but in my family people are pretty sedentary. Julie was anything but sedentary and yet she was still fighting more than a hundred extra pounds.
One day, my two little dogs went ballistic as Julie and Miss Ricki passed our window. Bill and I glanced up from what we were doing and noticed that Julie looked like she was losing weight. We commented to each other that she looked good and then went on our way. This happened from time to time over the next several months until one day when our dogs barked, Bill said to me, “Who is that woman walking Miss Ricki this morning?”
I said, “It’s Julie, I think.”
“She’s lost a lot of weight,” he said. I looked more closely at her from inside my cozy home and thought, Sure enough! I wonder how she’s done it?
Now all this time, we never talked to Julie. It isn’t because we are antisocial; it’s because Julie worked nights at the hospital, so when she walked passed our window, we were either in our rushed morning routine of getting ready for work or, during her evening walks, having dinner. But then one day, I happened to arrive home just as Julie was heading home from one of her later walks and we started to chat. She had, indeed, lost well over 100 pounds and, it turned out, she was training to run a marathon! So how did she do it? And why now?
Julie has told me that she was “heavy in a family of skinny people” her whole life. She’s told me (and I’m authorized to tell you) that she felt loved and accepted by her family and that she loved and accepted herself, but that she knew her weight was taking its toll on her joints and on her ability to move about the world. She’d given herself a target weight decades ago, but had never been able to get there.
Let me assure you that she’s at her target now, and she’s maintained it for several years at this point. I do a lot more than watch Julie from my window these days. I run with her a few times a week. I also talk to her almost every day as she heads off to the gym or to the pool. She is an inspiration to me, often showing more commitment to her health and goals than I can muster myself.
And that’s the end of what I’ll say about Julie. Next week I’ll be interviewing her and transcribing the interview so you can hear from her yourself. If you have questions you’d like me ask her, send ‘em on to me.
Julie already lived in our neighborhood of townhomes when Bill and I bought our unit. She was a friendly woman who walked her little Cairn terrier past our window twice a day. Bill and I liked her right away because she was high energy and interested in others. She greeted every neighbor with the same bright smile and series of sincere questions about our well-being. A labor and delivery nurse by profession, Julie had the aura of one who cared.
Julie was also a large woman. In fact, it seemed to us, as we watched from our window (just so you know, the only window in the lower half of all our units looks directly onto the street at street level---we weren’t spying) that she was heavy against all odds. Julie walked at least an hour every day in addition to the hours she spent on her feet at the hospital.
As I mentioned in the book, I come from a family of people who struggle with obesity, but in my family people are pretty sedentary. Julie was anything but sedentary and yet she was still fighting more than a hundred extra pounds.
One day, my two little dogs went ballistic as Julie and Miss Ricki passed our window. Bill and I glanced up from what we were doing and noticed that Julie looked like she was losing weight. We commented to each other that she looked good and then went on our way. This happened from time to time over the next several months until one day when our dogs barked, Bill said to me, “Who is that woman walking Miss Ricki this morning?”
I said, “It’s Julie, I think.”
“She’s lost a lot of weight,” he said. I looked more closely at her from inside my cozy home and thought, Sure enough! I wonder how she’s done it?
Now all this time, we never talked to Julie. It isn’t because we are antisocial; it’s because Julie worked nights at the hospital, so when she walked passed our window, we were either in our rushed morning routine of getting ready for work or, during her evening walks, having dinner. But then one day, I happened to arrive home just as Julie was heading home from one of her later walks and we started to chat. She had, indeed, lost well over 100 pounds and, it turned out, she was training to run a marathon! So how did she do it? And why now?
Julie has told me that she was “heavy in a family of skinny people” her whole life. She’s told me (and I’m authorized to tell you) that she felt loved and accepted by her family and that she loved and accepted herself, but that she knew her weight was taking its toll on her joints and on her ability to move about the world. She’d given herself a target weight decades ago, but had never been able to get there.
Let me assure you that she’s at her target now, and she’s maintained it for several years at this point. I do a lot more than watch Julie from my window these days. I run with her a few times a week. I also talk to her almost every day as she heads off to the gym or to the pool. She is an inspiration to me, often showing more commitment to her health and goals than I can muster myself.
And that’s the end of what I’ll say about Julie. Next week I’ll be interviewing her and transcribing the interview so you can hear from her yourself. If you have questions you’d like me ask her, send ‘em on to me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
DLF on the Sunset Loop
I still can't get my brain to focus on much besides Japan. The images on the television, though I've seen them now a hundred times, still draw me in and invite me to stand, dumbfounded in the center of my living room. But I did pull myself away from the TV for a 10-mile run on Saturday morning, and it's worth writing about.
Bill and I woke up to torrential rain that day. The wind was blowing and the downpour was coming in sideways, as it does sometimes around here. The plan was to suit up and drive to Anacortes for the Sunset Loop Relay run. Most participants would be in teams of four, each taking one 2.5-mile loop before passing the baton to the next runner. Bill wanted to get about 17 miles in last weekend as part of his training for the Boston Marathon, so he planned to do the full 10 miles on his own. And since I've been feeling ready to ramp up beyond six miles in a single run (my foot isn't totally healed, but it's much improved), I decided to come along for the ride/run.
When we saw the weather, Bill balked. Nobody loves to run in the pouring rain, but we do it often enough that I was surprised how adamant he was about not setting foot on the trail if it didn't let up that morning. Anacortes is an hour from our house, so we decided to take a chance that the weather would shift before we got there and, guess what? It did.
Once we had arrived in Anacortes, there was not another rain drop!
Here's the thing about doing a race in which most of the other runners are taking turns: They run only a fraction of what you run. That seems obvious, of course, but when Bill predicted I would finish LAST, I realized he was right. Always at the back of the pack, there's only one other time I ever remember coming in last. It was a 30K at Birch Bay. In that run there were two people behind me the whole race but somewhere before the finish, they bailed out, so although I finished last, I wasn't last on the course. This race stood the chance of being my first DLF (Dead Last Finish) fair and square.
I wasn't vying for the honor of DLF, mind you, but I was prepared for the possibility. And sure enough, as soon as I did the first loop, I was pretty sure the course was going to take me longer than everyone else. Don't ask me how you can run in a circle and still be going UP hill the whole way, but we did. Actually, the course was gorgeous. There were views of the water at several points and the whole paved drive was accessorized with the beautiful red bark of Madrona trees. But the route consisted of long, winding ups with sharp, short downs, which made me feel as if I could barely catch my breath before climbing again.
I'm happy to report that my foot felt good and my legs were working well for me, so I ran the whole course until the last lap when I walked part of the biggest hill. Bill joined me for that final loop and I'll admit to accepting the Prague Push for one of biggies, too. I came over the finish line at 2:08:58 - not bad I felt, but still DLF!
You don't get a prize for for being DLF, but you do get to know that you kept going longer than everyone else. Let's take pride in whatever we can. Life is short, why not?
Bill and I woke up to torrential rain that day. The wind was blowing and the downpour was coming in sideways, as it does sometimes around here. The plan was to suit up and drive to Anacortes for the Sunset Loop Relay run. Most participants would be in teams of four, each taking one 2.5-mile loop before passing the baton to the next runner. Bill wanted to get about 17 miles in last weekend as part of his training for the Boston Marathon, so he planned to do the full 10 miles on his own. And since I've been feeling ready to ramp up beyond six miles in a single run (my foot isn't totally healed, but it's much improved), I decided to come along for the ride/run.
When we saw the weather, Bill balked. Nobody loves to run in the pouring rain, but we do it often enough that I was surprised how adamant he was about not setting foot on the trail if it didn't let up that morning. Anacortes is an hour from our house, so we decided to take a chance that the weather would shift before we got there and, guess what? It did.
Once we had arrived in Anacortes, there was not another rain drop!
Here's the thing about doing a race in which most of the other runners are taking turns: They run only a fraction of what you run. That seems obvious, of course, but when Bill predicted I would finish LAST, I realized he was right. Always at the back of the pack, there's only one other time I ever remember coming in last. It was a 30K at Birch Bay. In that run there were two people behind me the whole race but somewhere before the finish, they bailed out, so although I finished last, I wasn't last on the course. This race stood the chance of being my first DLF (Dead Last Finish) fair and square.
I wasn't vying for the honor of DLF, mind you, but I was prepared for the possibility. And sure enough, as soon as I did the first loop, I was pretty sure the course was going to take me longer than everyone else. Don't ask me how you can run in a circle and still be going UP hill the whole way, but we did. Actually, the course was gorgeous. There were views of the water at several points and the whole paved drive was accessorized with the beautiful red bark of Madrona trees. But the route consisted of long, winding ups with sharp, short downs, which made me feel as if I could barely catch my breath before climbing again.
I'm happy to report that my foot felt good and my legs were working well for me, so I ran the whole course until the last lap when I walked part of the biggest hill. Bill joined me for that final loop and I'll admit to accepting the Prague Push for one of biggies, too. I came over the finish line at 2:08:58 - not bad I felt, but still DLF!
You don't get a prize for for being DLF, but you do get to know that you kept going longer than everyone else. Let's take pride in whatever we can. Life is short, why not?
Friday, March 11, 2011
Japan Earthquake
A year ago, Bill and I were on pins and needles watching the earthquake devastation in Chile. We had tickets to fly through Santiago on our way to Punta Arenas. In the end, the Santiago airport opened; we arrived in Chile and saw the damage first hand. Very sad and disruptive for thousands of families!
Today, we’re watching horrifying pictures coming out of Japan, a country we have a lot of connection to and affection for. Bill spent his day fielding emails to and about his students as they attempted to make contact with their families and friends. I touched bases with most of my friends, too, and confirmed that they are OK. So far the news is that everyone we know is safe. The main issue for our friends in Tokyo has been that people could not get home from work yesterday. Everyone I’ve heard from has said that the trains in the city were not working and they therefore had to sleep at their offices. Most have made their way back home by now.
Once again, I’m grateful for those in my life who are safe and incredibly thankful for the kind and generous spirit that tragedy calls out of people. The Red Cross has some information about how they are helping with the disaster in Japan, as does World Vision, in case you are interested in donating to the rescue and recovery efforts.
Today, we’re watching horrifying pictures coming out of Japan, a country we have a lot of connection to and affection for. Bill spent his day fielding emails to and about his students as they attempted to make contact with their families and friends. I touched bases with most of my friends, too, and confirmed that they are OK. So far the news is that everyone we know is safe. The main issue for our friends in Tokyo has been that people could not get home from work yesterday. Everyone I’ve heard from has said that the trains in the city were not working and they therefore had to sleep at their offices. Most have made their way back home by now.
Once again, I’m grateful for those in my life who are safe and incredibly thankful for the kind and generous spirit that tragedy calls out of people. The Red Cross has some information about how they are helping with the disaster in Japan, as does World Vision, in case you are interested in donating to the rescue and recovery efforts.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
‘Bout this time of year, I’m dreaming about travel. It's almost time for Spring Break and Summer is around the corner. My friend, Carol, just left today for an eight day trip to India. It’s her first international trip, and when I heard that she had this opportunity, I was 95% happy for her and 5% jealous, as any good friend should be.
While she was preparing for her trip, she asked me if I had any packing advice. As it turns out, I do. Below is a re-post (with a couple of revisions) of my advice from The Spirited Woman site where I post weekly with travel ideas, advice and insight:
Packing 101:
I NEVER check a bag when I travel by air - no matter where I'm going or how long I'll be there.
There are several reasons for this. First of all, nowadays checking a bag costs extra on most airlines. And while I've heard of airlines charging even for carry-on luggage, most will still let you bring one small piece into the cabin. Second, I need to be free of encumbrances, and there's nothing that weighs me down more than a big ol' suitcase full of stuff I may or may not use. Third, and most personal, compact packing has become a little game my husband and I play.
On our last trip, to Anchorage, Alaska for the Humpy's Marathon, Bill and I were debarking the shuttle bus we rode to the airport and, as the driver was handing me my little suitcase, he said, "Wow, you must have nothing in here. How do you travel so light!" That's right, I won the lightest luggage contest on that trip - even with all my running gear in my bag. In fact, I usually win because Bill can't sleep without (and therefore has to pack) his favorite pillow. Yay for me.
So how does a woman pack everything she needs into a 22" X 14" X 9" case, especially if she cares about how she looks? Rick Steves, travel guru, has a terrific list of essentials that helped to get me started, but I have some additional tips to help you get everything you need on the plane with you:
**Pack only what you need for the climate you're going to. Take the chance that you'll have to purchase something on your trip. I've rarely had to do it.
**Plan to wash your clothes. You really need no more than two or three of anything (shirts, underwear, socks, etc.) if you bring the right items, even if you need to dress up on your trip.
**If you don't need them for work, forget all electronics except your e-book reader and your phone. Almost every hotel, hostel or motel will have a computer you can use to access email.
**Find a hair style that doesn't require heat. If you don't need your hairdryer and your other hair appliances, you reduce your need for space significantly.
**In terms of cosmetics, bring only one of each of the following: eye shadow, liner/pencil, foundation, lipstick, blush and mascara. Bring your favorites.
**Wear your heaviest clothing on the plane. Your running shoes and fleece jacket take up a lot of room in your bag, so put them on your body.
**If you travel often, invest in compact or mini-versions of everything you use on a daily bases. Items such as deodorant, alarm clock, purse, and journal, as well as many other things we use on a regular bases, can be purchased in smaller versions than we have in our homes.
A traveler wants to be able to focus on enjoying her experiences when she's gallivanting around the world. She doesn't need to spend her precious time worrying about how to lug heavy suitcases from place to place. Next time you take a trip, try packing LESS than you think you need and see what happens.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Out of Seven Billion, You Only Need a Few!
Don’t you hate that sometimes in this life we encounter people who misunderstand us? Perhaps they are family members, people in our community, friends or critics of various kinds. Since Second Wind came out, I’ve had emails from readers who tell me about unkindesses they’ve faced in their lives. Some have been judged to be lazy because they are overweight; some have been denigrated in abusive relationships for years before they found a way out; and still others have been through dark and difficult times (like the loss of a loved one) and have had to listen to well-meaning (but misunderstanding) people speak clichés to them which only increased the pain. These same readers have shared with me how running (or other forms of strenuous exercise) has provided a way to come face to face with the self in a fresh way and heal from the pressure to meet other people’s standards.
The thing is, there are voices everywhere telling us who to be---or who not to be. The media are typical culprits, pressuring men and women to behave (i.e., spend money) in a certain way, but there are other voices, too. Every family has expectations of its members, and in some families, if you decide those expectations don’t fit for you, there are high prices to pay in the form of judgment and pressure to re-conform. Even groups of friends (or church communities, work staffs, or volunteer groups) have implicit agreements about the roles each member gets to play. When you decide to step outside of the norm, other people get anxious. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve either never stepped outside of the expectations others have for you or you’re the only person on the planet who is surrounded by perfectly understanding people who totally support whatever you do and never fail to understand where you’re coming from, and I’m happy for you.
The rest of us live in a world where some people on some days cannot see us, do not want to be curious about who we really are and wish we were more like them. I recently read a review of my book from a reader who hated it. S/he missed the point altogether and accused me of all kinds of things I don’t think are true of how I represented myself in the story. So, like you, the reader of this blog, I have to live with being misunderstood. And how will I do that? Just like you do. We get some time alone on the trails (or in meditation, yoga, hiking, the quiet of a church sanctuary). We remember the irrefutable fact that there are almost seven billion people on earth and some of them simply will not get us, like us or want to be around us. But out of all those seven billion souls there is likely to be a handful who thinks we’re cool. We run/walk/dance/ride to where those people live, get cheered up and then get back to our lives, living as authentically as we know how.
If you, like me, have had a negative voice intrude on your energy or trajectory this week, don’t let it take the wind from your sail. Take heart. You don’t need everyone to love you. You only need a few.
The thing is, there are voices everywhere telling us who to be---or who not to be. The media are typical culprits, pressuring men and women to behave (i.e., spend money) in a certain way, but there are other voices, too. Every family has expectations of its members, and in some families, if you decide those expectations don’t fit for you, there are high prices to pay in the form of judgment and pressure to re-conform. Even groups of friends (or church communities, work staffs, or volunteer groups) have implicit agreements about the roles each member gets to play. When you decide to step outside of the norm, other people get anxious. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve either never stepped outside of the expectations others have for you or you’re the only person on the planet who is surrounded by perfectly understanding people who totally support whatever you do and never fail to understand where you’re coming from, and I’m happy for you.
The rest of us live in a world where some people on some days cannot see us, do not want to be curious about who we really are and wish we were more like them. I recently read a review of my book from a reader who hated it. S/he missed the point altogether and accused me of all kinds of things I don’t think are true of how I represented myself in the story. So, like you, the reader of this blog, I have to live with being misunderstood. And how will I do that? Just like you do. We get some time alone on the trails (or in meditation, yoga, hiking, the quiet of a church sanctuary). We remember the irrefutable fact that there are almost seven billion people on earth and some of them simply will not get us, like us or want to be around us. But out of all those seven billion souls there is likely to be a handful who thinks we’re cool. We run/walk/dance/ride to where those people live, get cheered up and then get back to our lives, living as authentically as we know how.
If you, like me, have had a negative voice intrude on your energy or trajectory this week, don’t let it take the wind from your sail. Take heart. You don’t need everyone to love you. You only need a few.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
These Are a Few of My Favorite Things
Just at this very moment, we have sunshine in Bellingham. Have I ever mentioned that sunshine is one of my very favorite things? I love what it does to me. Sunshine lifts my mood, gives me permission to smile and invites me to take my dogs for a walk. I have other favorite things that make me happy just because they exist.
But February has been a hard month for me. It started well enough - with a fabulous writing workshop that left me reveling in the glow of other creative types. Unfortunately, this was followed by a series of bad news phone messages about sudden illnesses befalling people that matter to me. The most recent difficult news was that my dear friend and confidante had her beautiful, healthy baby girl, but also had serious complications post delivery. Since my girlfriend is someone I can't do without, I was overwhelmed with concern for her and her whole family as they waited in ICU for her body to heal.
It wasn't until after I was sure she was on the mend that I crashed and gave in to a good long cry, holding my delayed grief and fear with as much compassion as I could muster in my tired state. That was last Saturday. Sunday I went out for a six mile run and spent more than an hour with my distracted thoughts, letting them come and go as they pleased.
Now, finally, on Thursday, I'm calmer and have caught up on all the things I didn't do around my house last week. I'm looking at the sunshine outside my window and reflecting on what gives me joy, even during the hard things.
Here's my short list:
Watching people meet their goals. Whether I'm watching a client finally take that first step to live out her lifelong creative dream to become a writer or watching a budding marathoner take on his training with a vengeance (as I'm doing in the case of my friend Brandon Nobach), I adore seeing people's faces when they start to move in their preferred direction.
Nonprofits that do good work. I could list a hundred non-profit organizations that make me happy, but two of my favorites are Street Youth Ministries and the Bellingham Sister City Association. One supports homeless and disenfranchised young people in getting off the streets of Seattle, and the other facilitates "people to people diplomacy" between Americans and individuals from other cultures around the world. Yay for good work. It reminds me that there is balance in this life.
Talking with people who hold different world views. Every time I travel, my taken-for-granted ideas about life and right and wrong are challenged. That's a good thing because it makes my own world feel bigger. When I can't travel, I read. Right now I'm reading Radical Acceptance: Embracing your life with the heart of a Buddha by Tara Brach. Buddhism offers some interesting ways of approaching pain and longing. My mind is expanding as we speak....
Dogs. As is well documented (because I say it all the time), I love dogs. Mine both need baths at the moment, but as stinky as they are, I'm gonna let them curl up on my lap and give me some of their happy-just-to-be-with-you warm energy today.
Friends. I have the best friends in the world, of that I'm sure. My friends have cried with me through the darkest of times and shared good times of hilarity with me, too. Right now, I'm making new friends during my Monday and Wednesday workouts with Carol Frazey and her Fit School for Women. When women run together, they inevitably share their thoughts and dreams and griefs with one another. There's always room for a new friend, don't you think?
Love. Last but not least, I love being in love. Valentine's day was only ten days ago. Bill and I reconnected with each other nine years ago in February and we always celebrate getting reacquainted on Valentine's day. I am grateful and peaceful nowadays largely because I have him in my life. On a hard day, he's the best medicine.
So, when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when you're feeling sad... what makes you happy again? What are your favorite things?
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Getting to the Core of the Issue
Session two of the 6-Week Fit School Running/Walking Program is under my belt as of this morning. On Monday, Carol had us do a one-mile time trial. I came in at 9:33, and I seriously can’t see how anyone can run the mile any faster than that (though I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes).
Today we ran fast on the straight part of the track and slow on the curves for fifteen minutes. Then we did “the ladder”: One minute fast, one slow; two minutes fast, one slow – and so on. This was followed by some core work.
I cannot tell a lie. I hate core work and my core is, thusly, very weak. At a “kettlebell” workout (I think that’s what it’s called) I went to recently with a friend, the instructor told me that he could see my core was not strong, but reassured me that a weak core was normal for women who had given birth. When I told him I’d never had children he raised his eyebrows and said, “Are you sure?” Um… Yeah, I’m pretty sure.
So, since I’m in the throes of having to come up with goals for the Fit School Program, I’m thinking that strengthening my core should be on the list. The core is, after all, well… the center of your body where all your guts live and off of which your limbs grow. It’s important, the core.
Other goals include but are not limited to: improving running technique, stretching better, longer and more often, getting my workout over in the morning two days a week, making new friends and running stronger. Notice that running the mile faster is not on my list.
What are your fitness goals right now?
Today we ran fast on the straight part of the track and slow on the curves for fifteen minutes. Then we did “the ladder”: One minute fast, one slow; two minutes fast, one slow – and so on. This was followed by some core work.
I cannot tell a lie. I hate core work and my core is, thusly, very weak. At a “kettlebell” workout (I think that’s what it’s called) I went to recently with a friend, the instructor told me that he could see my core was not strong, but reassured me that a weak core was normal for women who had given birth. When I told him I’d never had children he raised his eyebrows and said, “Are you sure?” Um… Yeah, I’m pretty sure.
So, since I’m in the throes of having to come up with goals for the Fit School Program, I’m thinking that strengthening my core should be on the list. The core is, after all, well… the center of your body where all your guts live and off of which your limbs grow. It’s important, the core.
Other goals include but are not limited to: improving running technique, stretching better, longer and more often, getting my workout over in the morning two days a week, making new friends and running stronger. Notice that running the mile faster is not on my list.
What are your fitness goals right now?
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Getting Ready for Spring!
Well, it hasn’t been an easy year of running for me, so far. After the marathon in Las Vegas in December, I made the decision to take a break from marathons through the end of January. I actually ran nine marathons in 2010, but I only enjoyed seven of them. My last two races, Portland and Las Vegas, were painful because of the plantar fasciitis in my right foot and, although I hate to admit it, my body and soul both felt tired.
One of the hard things to learn as a woman (and perhaps even harder for a man) is how to listen to what the body needs and wants. We are so easily caught up in image and social demands that when the foot whispers, “Ouch. Let me take a break, please,” we may not want to hear. Or when the quads say, “Hey lady, try some other activity for a few days and give me a breather,” we may just plug our ears and sing louder along with the tune playing on our iPod.
I made the mistake at the close of 2010 of not listening to my body. When I crossed the finish line in Anchorage in August, my foot hurt like a mother. I took advantage of one of those free massages after the race, and when I stood up, pain shot through my body like lightening. I couldn’t walk back to our rental car, and I didn’t know what had happened. I’d never fallen or twisted anything or even taken a single misstep during the race. I hadn’t felt much more than a little bit of soreness on the course itself, so I really didn’t understand why I had so much discomfort.
If I’d been attending to my body as is within my value system, I would have pushed pause at that moment and stopped putting in so many miles until my foot gave me the go-ahead. But I had two more marathons on my schedule. I wanted to tick off Oregon and Nevada from the 50 States goal. And this meant training up to the marathon distance, which meant putting in a lot of miles between races.
After the Las Vegas marathon, I made a promise to myself that I would take a month off---from marathons and training for marathons, that is. I gave myself a few guidelines
**Run no more than six miles at a time
**Run no more than three times per week
**Run most of the month on my shock-absorbing treadmill in the garage while watching last season’s episodes of Big Love on DVD
**Supplement running with other kinds of exercise so I keep a decent base fitness level intact
Well, the good news is that I think my rules are working. Not only is my foot getting better (it’s still not quite back to normal), but I’m starting to miss running somethin’ awful. And that’s a good thing. Mostly because of the pain, but possibly also because my life was a tiny bit out of balance last year, the hard-earned joy of running had dissipated for me. I feel it coming back---that longing to strap on my running belt and muck through the puddles for a couple of hours.
One of the things I’m doing to get back into the groove is that I’m joining Carol Frazey’s 6-Week Running/Walking Program for Women starting on Monday, February 7 at 8:30 am at Civic Field here in Bellingham. I’ve always shied away from the track workouts that Bill goes to because I’m so slow and noncompetitive in my approach to running, but that’s what makes Carol’s runing/walking program for women perfect. I hope others will join me in picking up the pace in February. No matter why you’ve taken some time away from running or walking, it’s a good time to start again!
Monday, January 24, 2011
Calling Bellingham Women: Let's Pick up the Pace!
This is a post especially for women local to me - in or near Bellingham, but I hope it serves as an encouragement to all of you who follow this blog, local or not (woman or not).
If you've wanted 2011 to be a year of health, a year of taking good care of yourself, body and mind, check out Carol Frazey's six week Fit for School Walking/Running Program. ALL LEVELS are welcome, so if you can't run because of injury or pain, put on your walking shoes instead; there's no shame in walking. If you do run and simply want to improve your pace or form, this is for you, too!! I can wholeheartedly recommend Carol. She knows what she's doing and she's a supportive listener. Her program is only $97 for the whole six weeks (12 sessions) or $10 to drop in.
If you're not a Bellinghamster, don't fret. Almost every U.S. town has a good running club, a community involved running store or a local branch of USA Fit, the terrific national run/walking training program. I've heard from lots of readers who are training for a marathon or half-marathon this year. Look for a schedule that works for you and let's get started!!
If you've wanted 2011 to be a year of health, a year of taking good care of yourself, body and mind, check out Carol Frazey's six week Fit for School Walking/Running Program. ALL LEVELS are welcome, so if you can't run because of injury or pain, put on your walking shoes instead; there's no shame in walking. If you do run and simply want to improve your pace or form, this is for you, too!! I can wholeheartedly recommend Carol. She knows what she's doing and she's a supportive listener. Her program is only $97 for the whole six weeks (12 sessions) or $10 to drop in.
If you're not a Bellinghamster, don't fret. Almost every U.S. town has a good running club, a community involved running store or a local branch of USA Fit, the terrific national run/walking training program. I've heard from lots of readers who are training for a marathon or half-marathon this year. Look for a schedule that works for you and let's get started!!
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
The Red Wheelbarrow Writers' Series
Just as much as I love and am committed to running, I love and am committed to the craft of writing, too. And I'm so deliriously pleased to be participating (along with my friend and mentor, novelist Laura Kalpakian, our mutual writerly friend, Susan Tive) in the creation of the Red Wheelbarrow Writers' Series beginning in February. We've developed a three-part writers' workshop to encourage writers in their work and in building community with other writers. If you've never taken a class or workshop from Laura, you're in for a treat. Her feedback is suitable and helpful for writers doing any kind of narrative writing (memoir, fiction, children's fiction, etc.).
Description:
This three-month workshop which will focus on the cycle of practice, process and publishing for writers. Each month will build on and enhance writers’ skills and awareness. Below is a description of what each day-long workshop has in store as well as information about the location and how to pay for the series.
February 5: Practice
This first session will spotlight the creation and development of strong characterization and narrative voice. Writers of fiction and nonfiction will discover how to populate their pages with memorable people. Participants will learn through written prompts and theatrical techniques.
March 5: Process
In this second session writers will have the opportunity to further develop their narrative skills and will begin to write their query letters for an agent or editor. Participants will also unearth their natural strengths to enhance their writing process.
April 2: Publish
For the final session, special industry guests will answer writers’ questions with regard to the publishing process. Participants will revise and receive feedback on their query letters.
“So much depends…” on community. At Red Wheelbarrow, we are committed to building community among writers. All three sessions will include occasions to connect with others.
Cost: $350 - includes all three-day workshops. Does not include lunch.
Times and Location:
Each session will take place at the Chrysalis Inn and Spa (http://www.thechrysalisinn.com/) located at 804 10thStreet, Bellingham. Parking is available on the street above the building or in the garage below.
Workshops run from 9:00am to 5:00pm.
How to sign up:
Send an email to clostman@live.com to reserve your space. Then send your check for $350 to Cami Ostman at PO Box 29043, Bellingham, WA 98228. You may also pay by Paypal using the email clostman@live.com. Please respond as soon as possible to secure your spot.
Link to article from the Bellingham Herald.
Description:
This three-month workshop which will focus on the cycle of practice, process and publishing for writers. Each month will build on and enhance writers’ skills and awareness. Below is a description of what each day-long workshop has in store as well as information about the location and how to pay for the series.
February 5: Practice
This first session will spotlight the creation and development of strong characterization and narrative voice. Writers of fiction and nonfiction will discover how to populate their pages with memorable people. Participants will learn through written prompts and theatrical techniques.
March 5: Process
In this second session writers will have the opportunity to further develop their narrative skills and will begin to write their query letters for an agent or editor. Participants will also unearth their natural strengths to enhance their writing process.
April 2: Publish
For the final session, special industry guests will answer writers’ questions with regard to the publishing process. Participants will revise and receive feedback on their query letters.
“So much depends…” on community. At Red Wheelbarrow, we are committed to building community among writers. All three sessions will include occasions to connect with others.
Cost: $350 - includes all three-day workshops. Does not include lunch.
Times and Location:
Each session will take place at the Chrysalis Inn and Spa (http://www.thechrysalisinn.com/) located at 804 10thStreet, Bellingham. Parking is available on the street above the building or in the garage below.
Workshops run from 9:00am to 5:00pm.
How to sign up:
Send an email to clostman@live.com to reserve your space. Then send your check for $350 to Cami Ostman at PO Box 29043, Bellingham, WA 98228. You may also pay by Paypal using the email clostman@live.com. Please respond as soon as possible to secure your spot.
Link to article from the Bellingham Herald.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
What is your New Year's resolution?
I'll bet you dollars to donuts that if you're reading this site, your New Year's Resolutions have something to do with running or fitness, or maybe travel. In my writing, I tend to focus on the spiritual, psychological and even cultural insights I get from running, but that isn't because I don't get amazing physical benefits. I mean, I'm stronger and more fit than I've ever been in my life because of these last few years of marathoning around the globe. Still, I feel like there's a lot I could do to move in a healthier direction. I'm sort of notorious for eating comfort food (think a big plate of steak fries with mayo and ketchup) for dinner, and cheese (of all kinds - even processed) is like a staple in my diet instead of a condiment as it is for most people. And while I know I'll never eat perfectly or exercise perfectly (or sleep, or drink or communicate perfectly), there's always room for improvement, right? But how?
My friend and fellow runner has some help for me and for families who want to make a commitment to improve their fitness and nutrition this year. Author, teacher and health professional Carol Frazey has a one-year plan for us. In her e-new book, The Fit School Plan - 1 Year to a Nutritionally and Physically Fit Life, she'll guide you and me and our families toward better health.
What do you say? Will you join me in making improvements to our health this year? You don't have to run a MARATHON to get healthier, for goodness sake (though, I certainly wouldn't discourage you if want to train for one this year!!!). You just have to find a reasonable plan that works for you and give it a go.
So check out Carol's book - a terrific, afordable and reliable resource! And let me know what your resolutions are this year. I'd like to follow along and be your cheerleader!
My friend and fellow runner has some help for me and for families who want to make a commitment to improve their fitness and nutrition this year. Author, teacher and health professional Carol Frazey has a one-year plan for us. In her e-new book, The Fit School Plan - 1 Year to a Nutritionally and Physically Fit Life, she'll guide you and me and our families toward better health.
What do you say? Will you join me in making improvements to our health this year? You don't have to run a MARATHON to get healthier, for goodness sake (though, I certainly wouldn't discourage you if want to train for one this year!!!). You just have to find a reasonable plan that works for you and give it a go.
So check out Carol's book - a terrific, afordable and reliable resource! And let me know what your resolutions are this year. I'd like to follow along and be your cheerleader!
Sunday, December 19, 2010
The Desert Classic
I just finished a little 5K put on by the Arizona Road Racers as part of the Desert Classic series.
We’ve done this race three years in a row, but usually I do the 30K race (which Bill is running at this very moment). Today as I stood at the starting line with all the other runners hopping and stretching in anticipation of the horn, I felt sorry for myself. Only two weeks off of my last marathon (which, as noted in an earlier entry, was VERY tough for me) , and having made the decision that I need to lay off the long races for a while to let my foot heal, I felt left out of the “real” runners’ club this morning. Boo hoo for me.
Then the horn sounded. I picked up what I thought would be a good pace for myself and heard my right foot scream at me. I told her not to worry, that this would only take a half hour. She quieted down a little after the first mile and we managed the rest of the race in relative peace.
About two and a half miles in, I ran past a young girl of around eleven. I’d seen her start the race with her dad, but he’d run ahead by this point and she was alone on the course, crying. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw her tears. How many times have I cried in the last miles of a race? Even as recently as two weeks ago I did so.
“Honey, it’s gonna be okay,” I said. “Just keep putting one foot in front of another and keep your eye on the person in front of you. You won’t get lost and you’ll make it over the finish line. I promise!”
She nodded at me but didn’t say anything (she’s probably been taught not to talk to strangers).
As I ran on, I found myself feeling mad at her dad for leaving her back there alone, and I resolved that if he didn’t turn around at the finish line and go back to her, I would go back. But when I crossed the finish line (at thirty-three minutes, according to the time clock), she was there right behind me. And her dad was waiting for her with his arms open.
Yes. Yes, I know that every runner’s race is her own and that “dad” probably did the right thing by letting her figure out her pace and work it out. She was safe, she was close to the end when he ran ahead, and he was there for her when it was over. I know all of this; I just keep forgetting. I keep forgetting that the struggle is INSIDE – that being “real” is about listening to your body and not about putting in as many miles as the other guy. It’s about being authentic and not about being tougher than your (husband, friend, rival, dad, etc.).
So, I’m back at my water running tomorrow. And I’m sending good thoughts to the little girl whose first 5K ended with a few tears and a big hug from her dad.
We’ve done this race three years in a row, but usually I do the 30K race (which Bill is running at this very moment). Today as I stood at the starting line with all the other runners hopping and stretching in anticipation of the horn, I felt sorry for myself. Only two weeks off of my last marathon (which, as noted in an earlier entry, was VERY tough for me) , and having made the decision that I need to lay off the long races for a while to let my foot heal, I felt left out of the “real” runners’ club this morning. Boo hoo for me.
Then the horn sounded. I picked up what I thought would be a good pace for myself and heard my right foot scream at me. I told her not to worry, that this would only take a half hour. She quieted down a little after the first mile and we managed the rest of the race in relative peace.
About two and a half miles in, I ran past a young girl of around eleven. I’d seen her start the race with her dad, but he’d run ahead by this point and she was alone on the course, crying. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw her tears. How many times have I cried in the last miles of a race? Even as recently as two weeks ago I did so.
“Honey, it’s gonna be okay,” I said. “Just keep putting one foot in front of another and keep your eye on the person in front of you. You won’t get lost and you’ll make it over the finish line. I promise!”
She nodded at me but didn’t say anything (she’s probably been taught not to talk to strangers).
As I ran on, I found myself feeling mad at her dad for leaving her back there alone, and I resolved that if he didn’t turn around at the finish line and go back to her, I would go back. But when I crossed the finish line (at thirty-three minutes, according to the time clock), she was there right behind me. And her dad was waiting for her with his arms open.
Yes. Yes, I know that every runner’s race is her own and that “dad” probably did the right thing by letting her figure out her pace and work it out. She was safe, she was close to the end when he ran ahead, and he was there for her when it was over. I know all of this; I just keep forgetting. I keep forgetting that the struggle is INSIDE – that being “real” is about listening to your body and not about putting in as many miles as the other guy. It’s about being authentic and not about being tougher than your (husband, friend, rival, dad, etc.).
So, I’m back at my water running tomorrow. And I’m sending good thoughts to the little girl whose first 5K ended with a few tears and a big hug from her dad.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Whew! Ow! And, what a day!
Well, the long awaited for and worried about (by me, at least) Las Vegas Rock n Roll Marathon has been completed. Julie and I arrived at our corral at about 6:30am and waited around for the gun. I think we finally started at 7:20-ish. And, naturally, we had two completely different experiences of the same day.
I asked Julie to write a blurb about her experience. Here's what she said: " I did it! My third marathon was accomplished with a few verbal whimpers and many whimpering thoughts. I finished in good time for me, but it was tough. This running thing gives you time to ponder many a thing. Today I was feeling surprised by the shapes, sizes and ages of the runners. I was passed by many people older and larger - people I thought I should beat. I'm also amazed at the different styles of running. It is amazing to me that we, as a people, are made up of the same number of chromosomes, and that they go together in such different ways.
"One of my running slogans is, 'Pain is temporary; pride is forever!' That thought is a valid one, but sometimes I still doubt my ability to do a marathon. Crazy, huh? Three done (I am proud of this), but it is sort of hard even now to believe I really do run marathons."I know two things: If I can run a marathon, anyone can (if they choose to), and I really am proud of my physical, mental and emotional toughness. I did it!"
It might be helpful to know that Julie used to carry a lot of extra weight and running has helped her lose it. She's still in awe of her ability to pull off the marathon distance. She's also a labor and delivery nurse, so she holds little bundles of chromosomes in her arms every day, wondering who they will turn out to be - and what their running stride will look like someday.
Today, for me, was not so full of wonderment about the uniqueness of every human being - not so philosophical, you might say. Here's how it went down for me: The first six miles were strong, but stressful. Julie and I ran hard because we had deadlines to meet in order to be allowed to continue in the race. Since I've been primarily water running and riding the stationary bike at Gold's Gym (instead of training on the cold, hard ground), my (very insufficient) "training," didn't really prepare me for today. By mile nine, my quads hurt like heck, my foot was aching and I was CRABBY.
Poor Julie, who is extremely cheerful and positive, as a rule, got the brunt of my poor attitude. At about mile 15, I had to asked her to stop saying, "We can do it. Only (fill in the blank) miles to go!" She swears I didn't hurt her feelings with my request, but we did mutually decide to finish separately within another mile.
I ran alone with my bad self for four more miles - fighting for every single step and feeling guilty for being bad company, not even enjoying the running Elvises and frowning at the sweet Jr. High Cheerleaders who yelled, "Keep on truckin' all the way," at me every few miles. All this distance, I vacillated between crying and silently reciting the Buddhist Lovingkindness Meditation to calm myself down (panicked as I was that I would have to hitch a ride to the finish line).
At mile 20, a fellow who had been tracking right beside me, dared to speak to me. George turned out to be exactly what I needed. Just my age, George is a high school English teacher in Las Vegas whose main goal was to beat his last marathon time (6:20). He asked me how I was doing and I confessed I wasn't doing well. George very authoritatively said, "Well, let's not talk about that. Let's just talk." And so I set my Gym Boss to one minute of walking and two minutes of running and we talked: about my running on the continents, about the kids in his classes, about my experience as an English teacher years ago, about his two children. And the time passed - not quickly, not easily and not without pain. But it passed.
And I finished. I think my time was 5:39 - the longest it has ever taken me to run a marathon.
I think the moral of the story is that I need to take some time to heal my foot and then to get (gently) back onto the trails and remember my love of breathing without a finish line to reach for.
But until then: Thanks to Julie for being so gracious with my crabby mood and to George for being the right companion at the right time. And thanks, once again, to the marathon for teaching me what I need to know about myself - even if it's that we need to take a break from one another for a little while.
Oh, and thanks to Bill and all of my friends for your encouragement and continued interest in my running pursuits.
I asked Julie to write a blurb about her experience. Here's what she said: " I did it! My third marathon was accomplished with a few verbal whimpers and many whimpering thoughts. I finished in good time for me, but it was tough. This running thing gives you time to ponder many a thing. Today I was feeling surprised by the shapes, sizes and ages of the runners. I was passed by many people older and larger - people I thought I should beat. I'm also amazed at the different styles of running. It is amazing to me that we, as a people, are made up of the same number of chromosomes, and that they go together in such different ways.
"One of my running slogans is, 'Pain is temporary; pride is forever!' That thought is a valid one, but sometimes I still doubt my ability to do a marathon. Crazy, huh? Three done (I am proud of this), but it is sort of hard even now to believe I really do run marathons."I know two things: If I can run a marathon, anyone can (if they choose to), and I really am proud of my physical, mental and emotional toughness. I did it!"
It might be helpful to know that Julie used to carry a lot of extra weight and running has helped her lose it. She's still in awe of her ability to pull off the marathon distance. She's also a labor and delivery nurse, so she holds little bundles of chromosomes in her arms every day, wondering who they will turn out to be - and what their running stride will look like someday.
Today, for me, was not so full of wonderment about the uniqueness of every human being - not so philosophical, you might say. Here's how it went down for me: The first six miles were strong, but stressful. Julie and I ran hard because we had deadlines to meet in order to be allowed to continue in the race. Since I've been primarily water running and riding the stationary bike at Gold's Gym (instead of training on the cold, hard ground), my (very insufficient) "training," didn't really prepare me for today. By mile nine, my quads hurt like heck, my foot was aching and I was CRABBY.
Poor Julie, who is extremely cheerful and positive, as a rule, got the brunt of my poor attitude. At about mile 15, I had to asked her to stop saying, "We can do it. Only (fill in the blank) miles to go!" She swears I didn't hurt her feelings with my request, but we did mutually decide to finish separately within another mile.
I ran alone with my bad self for four more miles - fighting for every single step and feeling guilty for being bad company, not even enjoying the running Elvises and frowning at the sweet Jr. High Cheerleaders who yelled, "Keep on truckin' all the way," at me every few miles. All this distance, I vacillated between crying and silently reciting the Buddhist Lovingkindness Meditation to calm myself down (panicked as I was that I would have to hitch a ride to the finish line).
At mile 20, a fellow who had been tracking right beside me, dared to speak to me. George turned out to be exactly what I needed. Just my age, George is a high school English teacher in Las Vegas whose main goal was to beat his last marathon time (6:20). He asked me how I was doing and I confessed I wasn't doing well. George very authoritatively said, "Well, let's not talk about that. Let's just talk." And so I set my Gym Boss to one minute of walking and two minutes of running and we talked: about my running on the continents, about the kids in his classes, about my experience as an English teacher years ago, about his two children. And the time passed - not quickly, not easily and not without pain. But it passed.
And I finished. I think my time was 5:39 - the longest it has ever taken me to run a marathon.
I think the moral of the story is that I need to take some time to heal my foot and then to get (gently) back onto the trails and remember my love of breathing without a finish line to reach for.
But until then: Thanks to Julie for being so gracious with my crabby mood and to George for being the right companion at the right time. And thanks, once again, to the marathon for teaching me what I need to know about myself - even if it's that we need to take a break from one another for a little while.
Oh, and thanks to Bill and all of my friends for your encouragement and continued interest in my running pursuits.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
In the Morning!
The starting gun is eleven hours from now. This afternoon Julie and I walked from the Luxor (where we’re staying) to the parking lot at Mandalay Bay (where the race starts) to get a sense of how much time we’ll need in the morning to get to corral 19. It takes fifteen minutes. That’s it. So we’ll get up, drink our coffee, get dressed and station ourselves at the starting line – all before our friends and families are out of bed.
We’ve had a lot of fun since we arrived on Wednesday evening. Thursday we walked the strip, stopping in to look at some of the more interesting casinos whenever we felt inclined. Friday, we spent a couple of hours at the race expo where, at 3:00, I finally got to meet Marie Bean. Readers might remember my e-pen friend, Marie. We “met” after the Rio de Janeiro race when she found my blog and reached out to me asking how I planned to get to Antarctica. She had planned on coming with Bill, Marina and me to Antarctica earlier this year, but had to change her plans in the end. What fun to finally meet her (and for more fun, check out her running business in Australia: Lazyrunner.com).
Today I crashed. For some reason I didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours on both Wednesday and Thursday nights. Last night (Friday), I took some sleeping aid and then felt like I wandered through today in a haze. So I spent most of today in the hotel room reading, catching up on Glee episodes and worrying about my foot (which I just wrapped according to Jason Gully’s specifications, hoping to give it some extra support tomorrow).
As I understand it, while the race starts at 7:00 am, each corral waits for a minute or two until it gets the go-ahead. Julie and I should actually start running anytime between 7:19 and 7:38. We’ve been told we have to make it to the 12.6-mile point by 10:15 in order to get the go-ahead to complete the full marathon (rather than be re-directed to do only the half). Even if we start at the latest possible time for our corral (7:38), this gives us 2 hours and 37 minutes to get to 12.6 (are you following?). We should be fine. The pain in my foot and the perpetual pain in Julie’s knee shouldn’t become acute until the second half of the race. The Las Vegas Marathon shuts down The Strip, so the race is only allowing 5.5 hours for participants to complete the full marathon, and I have to admit to a little concern about this. My last two races (Anchorage and Portland) have brought me in around 5:35. But Julie and I feel optimistic that we can pull it off with the help of the energy of the other twenty thousand runners and the bands stationed all along the route.
Watch our progress through the Rock n Roll website. I’m number 22435 and Julie is number 21240
We’ve had a lot of fun since we arrived on Wednesday evening. Thursday we walked the strip, stopping in to look at some of the more interesting casinos whenever we felt inclined. Friday, we spent a couple of hours at the race expo where, at 3:00, I finally got to meet Marie Bean. Readers might remember my e-pen friend, Marie. We “met” after the Rio de Janeiro race when she found my blog and reached out to me asking how I planned to get to Antarctica. She had planned on coming with Bill, Marina and me to Antarctica earlier this year, but had to change her plans in the end. What fun to finally meet her (and for more fun, check out her running business in Australia: Lazyrunner.com).
Today I crashed. For some reason I didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours on both Wednesday and Thursday nights. Last night (Friday), I took some sleeping aid and then felt like I wandered through today in a haze. So I spent most of today in the hotel room reading, catching up on Glee episodes and worrying about my foot (which I just wrapped according to Jason Gully’s specifications, hoping to give it some extra support tomorrow).
As I understand it, while the race starts at 7:00 am, each corral waits for a minute or two until it gets the go-ahead. Julie and I should actually start running anytime between 7:19 and 7:38. We’ve been told we have to make it to the 12.6-mile point by 10:15 in order to get the go-ahead to complete the full marathon (rather than be re-directed to do only the half). Even if we start at the latest possible time for our corral (7:38), this gives us 2 hours and 37 minutes to get to 12.6 (are you following?). We should be fine. The pain in my foot and the perpetual pain in Julie’s knee shouldn’t become acute until the second half of the race. The Las Vegas Marathon shuts down The Strip, so the race is only allowing 5.5 hours for participants to complete the full marathon, and I have to admit to a little concern about this. My last two races (Anchorage and Portland) have brought me in around 5:35. But Julie and I feel optimistic that we can pull it off with the help of the energy of the other twenty thousand runners and the bands stationed all along the route.
Watch our progress through the Rock n Roll website. I’m number 22435 and Julie is number 21240
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Vegas!
Well, my running partner, Julie, and I flew to Las Vegas on Wednesday evening and settled into the Luxor without a hitch. Today we walked "the strip" and plugged the occasional slot machine with a dollar (or five).
Vegas is kind of a special place to me, even as it fills my introvert's heart with over-stimulated exhaustion and makes me long for a good book and hot chocolate by a fire. I've been coming to Vegas in December for years. I used to come with my ex-husband to see his sister (who lived here) during the holidays. Then in recent years, Bill and I have flown in to Las Vegas, rented a car and driven to Phoenix many times over the last decade. It's always festive and full of energy and, most of all, hopeful.
But this is the first time I've been in Sin City for a marathon. Today as I walked down the strip, I was thinking about how it will feel to run along the boulevard on Sunday. The race starts right here - with all the lights and noise and chaos. And since this is a Rock n Roll Marathon, there will be music and entertainment along the way - at almost every mile.
Needless to say, I'm excited. I've still got some pain in my heel (which is discouraging), but I'm prepared to put mind over matter. The course is only open for five and a half hours, which means Julie and I have to run a smart race this time.
I"m number 22435. Watch for my results Sunday afternoon.
Vegas is kind of a special place to me, even as it fills my introvert's heart with over-stimulated exhaustion and makes me long for a good book and hot chocolate by a fire. I've been coming to Vegas in December for years. I used to come with my ex-husband to see his sister (who lived here) during the holidays. Then in recent years, Bill and I have flown in to Las Vegas, rented a car and driven to Phoenix many times over the last decade. It's always festive and full of energy and, most of all, hopeful.
But this is the first time I've been in Sin City for a marathon. Today as I walked down the strip, I was thinking about how it will feel to run along the boulevard on Sunday. The race starts right here - with all the lights and noise and chaos. And since this is a Rock n Roll Marathon, there will be music and entertainment along the way - at almost every mile.
Needless to say, I'm excited. I've still got some pain in my heel (which is discouraging), but I'm prepared to put mind over matter. The course is only open for five and a half hours, which means Julie and I have to run a smart race this time.
I"m number 22435. Watch for my results Sunday afternoon.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
My "Thankful" List. What are you thankful for?
If anyone has reason to be thankful, it is I. It’s true that now is my least favorite year (barren trees, freezing temperatures and snow as I write!), and it’s true that I’ve exchanged time on my beloved Bellingham trails for the stationary bike and water running while I let my foot heal, BUT still… what a life I have. I live in a great community with a loving man and two flat nosed little dogs who think I’m the cat’s meow. I have the most stellar set of friends any woman has ever had. And this year, I not only finished my quest to hit the ground running on every continent, but I lived out a dream to complete and publish a book!
So even as I lament having to exercise my body inside of buildings instead of outside in the elements (as unaccommodating as they have been this week), I have to put my thankfulness firmly out into the universe. Here is a list of what I’m thankful for today – from the basic to the minute:
* A warm home, enough food and a clean bed – not everyone has this, you know
* The luck to live in a country where I, as a woman, have rights and many, many choices in my life – not everyone has this, either
* Every person who has cheered me in a race, shown up at a reading or commented on my blog – I needed you and you were there – thank you
* Every glass of good red wine I have ever tasted, but especially those made in Washington State
* Sports bras
* Hair coloring
* Arizona in the winter
* Books – and publishers (especially Seal Press!)
* Cheese
* A healthy body, my current struggle notwithstanding
* My partner, Bill, who daily lives up to his promise to stay in the fray with me, even when it is less than pleasant.
What does your list look like? Have a great weekend as you think about it.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Holiday Gift Ideas
Well, the holidays are upon us, once again. Thursday is Thanksgiving! One of the things I love about being a runner is guilt-free eating. So, first of all, happy Turkey day, and may you find a multitude of things to be grateful about.
Admittedly, I’ve not been on the trails lately because of the plantar fasciitis I’ve been fighting and have, thus, been “water running” (which isn’t really running at all) and peddling on the stationary bike at the gym. Still, my runner’s heart is out there with all of you.
I’m making my holiday gift list just as you are, too.
So I’d like to offer my top 6 ideas for the runner in your life – particularly the back-of-the-pack runner who spends more than the average number of hours on the course.
1. Present a piece of Tarma running jewelry to her to show your support. Last year Bill have me a necklace with a pendant of a running girl inside of circle (looks like a peace sign), and I’ve gotten countless compliments on it.
2. Put a box of her favorite energy gel in her stocking. These nasty tasting, but absolutely essential running supplies are not expensive, but they can add up. There’s nothing worse than getting ready for a long run and discovering that you’re out of café latte or red raspberry gel. Get her a month’s supply. Remember, she needs approximately one gel packet for every hour of running.
3. For the compassionate minded runner in your life, take the “26.2 Challenge” by donating to the Hall Steps Foundation. With a $26.00 donation you can help Olympian marathoner, Ryan Hall, and his wife, Sara, bring clean water to the world. My husband, Bill, recently went to hear Ryan and Sara speak and this year, we’re donating.
4. Alternatively, if you’re inclined to give a donation in your runner’s name, consider contributing to Girls on the Run, an amazing international organization that promotes self-respect and healthy living for elementary school age girls. I volunteered to be a running buddy with the local group a few years ago, and now I’m sold on them. They do GREAT work!
5. Give an iTunes gift card to keep your favorite runner in hours of hoppin’, inspiring music. And if she doesn’t have an iPod Shuffle, why not spring for that, too?
6. Last (for now) but not least, don’t forget to give your favorite runner a copy of Second Wind: One Woman’s Midlife Quest to Run Seven Marathons on Seven Continents by yours truly. I’m a slow poke marathoner who has experienced the life-changing power of the marathon as a metaphor for all of life. She’ll appreciate being encouraged by my story and my admiration for all runners, no matter their pace.
So this is a start. Don’t be shy, add to my list and I’ll update it over the next month to give you more ideas. Have a great week.
Admittedly, I’ve not been on the trails lately because of the plantar fasciitis I’ve been fighting and have, thus, been “water running” (which isn’t really running at all) and peddling on the stationary bike at the gym. Still, my runner’s heart is out there with all of you.
I’m making my holiday gift list just as you are, too.
So I’d like to offer my top 6 ideas for the runner in your life – particularly the back-of-the-pack runner who spends more than the average number of hours on the course.
1. Present a piece of Tarma running jewelry to her to show your support. Last year Bill have me a necklace with a pendant of a running girl inside of circle (looks like a peace sign), and I’ve gotten countless compliments on it.
2. Put a box of her favorite energy gel in her stocking. These nasty tasting, but absolutely essential running supplies are not expensive, but they can add up. There’s nothing worse than getting ready for a long run and discovering that you’re out of café latte or red raspberry gel. Get her a month’s supply. Remember, she needs approximately one gel packet for every hour of running.
3. For the compassionate minded runner in your life, take the “26.2 Challenge” by donating to the Hall Steps Foundation. With a $26.00 donation you can help Olympian marathoner, Ryan Hall, and his wife, Sara, bring clean water to the world. My husband, Bill, recently went to hear Ryan and Sara speak and this year, we’re donating.
4. Alternatively, if you’re inclined to give a donation in your runner’s name, consider contributing to Girls on the Run, an amazing international organization that promotes self-respect and healthy living for elementary school age girls. I volunteered to be a running buddy with the local group a few years ago, and now I’m sold on them. They do GREAT work!
5. Give an iTunes gift card to keep your favorite runner in hours of hoppin’, inspiring music. And if she doesn’t have an iPod Shuffle, why not spring for that, too?
6. Last (for now) but not least, don’t forget to give your favorite runner a copy of Second Wind: One Woman’s Midlife Quest to Run Seven Marathons on Seven Continents by yours truly. I’m a slow poke marathoner who has experienced the life-changing power of the marathon as a metaphor for all of life. She’ll appreciate being encouraged by my story and my admiration for all runners, no matter their pace.
So this is a start. Don’t be shy, add to my list and I’ll update it over the next month to give you more ideas. Have a great week.
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